


If You Say So

by zeldadestry



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-14
Updated: 2006-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-12 09:00:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeldadestry/pseuds/zeldadestry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If you lie down, I'll listen to anything you say. Otherwise, go away."</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Say So

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a coda for episode 208: 'In Plain Sight'

Charlie wakes to Don's voice saying his name.

"Charlie. Charlie, are you up? I need to talk to you."

If Don is wearing shoes, he'll take them off before lying down on the bed. And if he takes the time to pull off his shoes, he'll also have time to think about what he's doing and decide against it. So. Everything hinges on whether or not Don is wearing his shoes. Don's probably wearing his shoes, but Charlie still manages to feel hopeful as he raises his head and angles it so he can see the answer. Wow. No shoes. Is the universe aligning itself in his favor? Charlie rests his head back on the pillow and says, "Don, lie down." Don is standing beside the bed, frowning, with his arms crossed, and Charlie tugs at the front of his brother's shirt where it's tucked in tightly above the belt. "You look tired. Lie down."

"Charlie, don't be stupid. Listen, I've got to get back to the office, but there's a couple things we have to talk about." Charlie closes his eyes. It is tiring to have Don order him around, especially when it is not about a case. This is his house and he is a grown man and he doesn't have to do things just because Don says so. "Hey, are you listening to me?"

Charlie nods. "Don," he says quietly, "if you lie down, I'll listen to anything you say. Otherwise, go away."

Don's hands are rough as they press against his side. "Ok, ok, move over Charlie, move over."

Charlie does as he's told. It's easier to do so when he's in the process of getting what he wants. Usually, he's the one curled against Don, his face pressed against Don's chest, Don's hand in his hair, or curving round the back of his neck. But when Charlie holds his arms out, Don folds himself into them as though he's the one seeking comfort. Maybe he is, Charlie muses. He still doesn't know what this is about. "Don't let me fall asleep," Don says. "I have to get back to the office."

"I won't let you fall asleep."

"Set the alarm, in case we both do."

Charlie does, though it's not necessary. He's not going to fall asleep, not on something as rare as this. He's made a promise to listen, but he can't help adding one more caveat. "Say what you've got to say, but don't talk to me like I'm stupid."

Don snorts. "I never treat you like you're stupid, what are you talking about?"

"Ah, but I don't understand the realities of the situation, right?" Don raises his head and starts to argue, but Charlie presses his hand against Don's mouth and finishes what he wants to say. "You know what's stupid about that, Don? What you were really saying was that because I don't agree with you, don't see it the way you do, I'm out of touch with reality. Since when do you control what's real?"

"I don't. But neither do you."

"I never said I did."

"You're just a man, Charlie."

"What does that mean?"

"You have regrets."

"Who doesn't?"

"Exactly. Listen, Charlie, I don't want to bullshit. Megan told me. She told me what you said about Jessica Cartman."

Charlie's taken aback. He'd talked to Megan compulsively, like maybe a confession could keep the memory from haunting him. If he'd known that Don would end up hearing about it, he would have kept silent. "I told her that in confidence. I guess she doesn't think there can be secrets between brothers."

"She's worried that she gave you bad advice. You can't go looking for that girl. You didn't hurt her, her father did. You're not responsible. Why can't you understand that?"

"I want to know what happened to her, Don."

"What if you discover she's a junkie? Maybe she's a prostitute. Maybe she's dead, Charlie. Those are all possibilities, you know."

"Are you saying that there's no chance, none, that she's alright? Were you lying to me when we talked about Libby? You told me she could still have a normal life. You told me. Were you lying?"

Don should be angrier, angrier that Charlie is so stubborn, so naïve, but he can't help being moved by this, by Charlie wanting to believe that if Don says it, it's true, it's good as a promise, an oath. "I know. Listen to me. Libby's been hurt, ok? She's been hurt, but that doesn't mean she can't have a good life, that she can't be happy. But normal? No. People are enormously resilient, I've seen it. There's some unthinkable shit a person can go through and still come out alright on the other end. But there's no such thing as a normal life."

"You have a normal life. You're normal." And here it is again, Charlie needing to make Don more than he is, Charlie taking that word normal and holding it up as an ideal, as though his own extraordinary intelligence is the reason he feels out of place, not recognizing that those same feelings of isolation and loneliness exist in everyone. Charlie's eyes are closed again and Don runs the tips of his fingers across the eyebrow and then around the eye itself. He lingers along the ridge of the bone underneath the eye, watching the minute tremors of the lid, betraying the movement of the eye in its socket. His index finger dips in the hollow at the corner and then slowly drags up, back to the brow, completing the circle, the circuit.

"Tell me you won't go looking for her," Don says, bringing his face closer to Charlie's, whose lips have already parted, waiting.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you to get hurt."

"I can take care of myself."

"I know. Promise me." When Charlie doesn't answer, Don resorts to coercion, though he hates himself for it. He presses his hand against the front of Charlie's pants, cups him through the denim, makes his brother groan. "Promise me."

"I promise," Charlie rasps.

That should be the end of talking. Don has what he wants from Charlie, and now he's indebted to hold up his end of the deal. But he's determined to tie up the last thread of their conversation. "I'm not normal."

Charlie's eyes open. The hope in them makes him look so young, proves to Don that all his fears are founded. "And neither am I. But we can still be happy."

"If you say so." Charlie's happiness is far more important than his own. Don closes the fraction of space between them with his kiss.


End file.
